


By the Bridge

by Mount_Seleya



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Jaime, Episode: s06e10 The Winds of Winter, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Jaime Lannister, Plot What Plot, Showverse, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 06:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15504381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mount_Seleya/pseuds/Mount_Seleya
Summary: Jaime and Bronn find unexpected enjoyment in each other's company during the intolerable feast at the Twins.





	By the Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for a trade with Oldstupidtemplar, who requested something based on the scene in S6E10 where Bronn and Jaime talk during the feast at the Twins, and at one point their hands are curiously close to each other's on the table.

Chatter drowned the dimly-lit hall. The scent of roast meat hung in the air. Jaime looked at the food on his plate. Thick brown gravy spilled across a slice of honey-glazed ham and golden turnips like a river overrunning its banks. His appetite had soured long before Walder Frey's toast. Nothing about this dank little castle leant itself to cheer.  
  
Jaime lifted his gaze just as Bronn held out his goblet. A serving girl rushed over with a flagon in hand. She dutifully poured wine into Bronn's cup, but her gaze flicked to where Jaime sat, dark eyes glinting like dragonglass.  
  
"You don't even have to try," Bronn remarked once the girl was gone.  
  
"Not interested," Jaime replied, a low, clipped drawl.  
  
Bronn's brows sliced upward. His thin lips pulled into a smirk. "Shame. _She is_. Nothing like a pretty, interested girl." The words were easy and jesting. "Bet every woman within a hundred leagues would be happy to polish your sword."  
  
"They seem keen on you," Jaime parried, jabbing his chin at a pair of admirers huddled nearby.  
  
Grey eyes spun toward the giggling girls. Bronn's gaze lingered on them a beat. Then he turned away with a shrug. "Sisters," he said, sloshing his wine with a roll of his wrist. "Never had sisters before. That's your thing, isn't it?"  
  
" _Careful_ ," Jaime warned, reaching for his own goblet.  
  
Bronn brought his goblet down directly beside Jaime's. Wood creaked faintly as he leaned back in his chair. Sweeping his tongue across the inside of his cheek, he drummed his fingers against his goblet in tiny, rhythmic taps. Knuckles brushed knuckles. A knee knocked into Jaime's as legs levered wide. Time slowed to a crawl.  
  
"It's careful you want, now, is it?" Bronn goaded after what seemed an eternity.  
  
Jaime swallowed. His throat felt too tight to speak. Need surged down his spine. Made his cock twitch traitorously. He wanted. Bronn _knew_ he wanted. It shivered between them for a long, heady moment, fragile and new. But then the din of the feast flooded back, too loud and too close, and Jaime lifted his goblet, draining his wine.  
  
"I need a piss," Jaime said, slamming his goblet down and springing from his chair.  
  
He pushed out of the crowded hall into the crisp of night. Guards spluttered out greetings as he swept past them. He trudged down the grassy embankment to where the river licked steadily around the first pier of the bridge.  
  
Cloth rustled as Jaime fumbled open his breeches. A soft sigh escaped him as let his water stream. He hated everything about this place, hated Lord Frey's sneering pride and every one of his low, grasping brood.  
  
Grass crunched. Jaime's head snapped around. Bronn strode briskly down the slope to stand two paces from him at the water's edge. His hands fell to the lacings of his leather breeches. Jaime hastily averted his gaze. Tucked his cock away.  
  
Heat rose in Jaime's cheeks at the splash that followed. Anger and fear and need warred in the pit of his stomach. He stood rooted to the spot, watching the wan, silver moonlight glimmer off the river as Bronn pissed.  
  
"How long's it been since you had a fuck?" Bronn asked when he was done.  
  
"I don't see how that's any of your concern," Jaime threw back.  
  
"Oh, I think it is," replied Bronn. "You've been a right miserable cunt since you sent that big woman away."  
  
Jaime swung a hard glare at Bronn. The man stood facing him now. His shrewd grey gaze knifed into Jaime. Both of his thumbs were hooked into the waist of his breeches and his feet were planted a half-step apart.  
  
"I haven't lain with her," Jaime insisted, mud slipping under his boots as he shifted.  
  
"Course not. And so you've been a bloody cunt. Don't know how you can even walk with your balls so clogged."  
  
" _Fuck you_ ," Jaime snarled, low enough to bring out the sand in his voice.  
  
"Aye, I think I will," Bronn crooned, surging forward.  
  
The wind fled Jaime's lungs as his back hit the the bridge. Lips claimed his before he could give voice to his shock. Bronn kneed his legs apart, settling into the space between, bringing their groins flush. His arms looped around Jaime's waist, hands skidding down his leather jacket, palming his arse through his breeches.  
  
He moaned when Bronn began to grind against him. His left hand knotted in the greasy mane of Bronn's hair. Pleasure coiled in his loins, sweet and sharp as the cut of fresh steel, until at last he faltered on an edge.  
  
"Get your arse around," Bronn ordered as he pulled away abruptly.  
  
Jaime turned, then, feet slow and unsure under him, bracing his right arm against the grey stone face of the bridge. His false hand gleamed a dull gold in the pale moonlight. Bronn whisked his breeches down his hips with a yank. Cold air bit at his bare skin. The sound of spitting met his ears. Then a wet finger stole between his cheeks.  
  
"I'm going to fuck you," Bronn said thickly, finger smearing a circle, "right in this sweet little hole."  
  
"There are guards," Jaime protested, left hand flattening upon rough cool stone.  
  
Bronn chuckled. Gentled his free hand down Jaime's thigh. "They'll be tending those nice girls you spurned."  
  
A sharp hiss escaped Jaime when the finger pushed inside. Bronn rubbed his thigh lightly as he gathered his breath. It stung bitter and bright, and yet the fill was a strange new delight, and he hungered impossibly for more.  
  
One finger soon became two. "Open for me," Bronn cooed, working him slowly. "That's it. _That's it._ Just relax." He harried the magic spot inside Jaime, making sparks dance behind his eyes, pleasure sing up his spine.  
  
Bronn pulled his fingers out after an age. There came a rude _hock_ followed by a series of quick wet slaps. Then hands took hold of Jaime's hips, and the hot, slick tip of Bronn's cock nocked into place against his hole.  
  
Jaime let out a pained wince as the cock breached him. Bronn leaned against him, kissing his neck, nuzzling his ear. His thumbs spun tiny wheels on the crests of Jaime's hips. The steady murmur of the river ate at the sudden silence. Slowly, surely, the pain abated, and then Bronn was easing inside, soft little jerks until he was buried deep.  
  
" _Fuck_ ," Jaime gasped when Bronn began to rock in and out gently.  
  
Teeth caught his ear. Nipped light as a kitten. "You like taking my cock up your lordly arse?"  
  
" _Yes_ ," Jaime groaned. "Oh, Gods, yes. Bronn. _Bronn_." His fingernails scraped stone as he scrabbled for purchase. He'd expected to be taken rough and furious and fast. But this achingly tender ruin was beyond perfection.  
  
Fingers clasped Jaime's cock. Stroked him to the tune of the hips rolling into him. Panting breaths fell upon his ear. Bronn fucked him slowly, so slowly, tongue laving behind the shell of his ear, drinking the sheen of sweat from his skin. The feel of his cock plumbing deep drove him to abandon. Made pleasure mount higher and higher and higher.  
  
Jaime peaked with a strangled moan. He spent onto grey stone in milky spurts. Bronn finished a goodly time later. His hips worked through his release, fucking languorously as he spilled into Jaime's arse with a low, filthy groan.  
  
"You've defiled the pride of House Frey," Bronn japed when they finally came down.  
  
"Serves the hateful shits right," Jaime returned, breathless and sated.


End file.
